Fantastical Stories (Book 1)

Summary

Three stories from three different times and places, dealing with the same problem, which is, the end of existence. "Phoenix" is a story about an extraordinary elderly woman set in a fantasy world, "A change of heart" follows steps of a deep-space mining engineer and "Perseverance" is a dark comedy about a girl who becomes a vampire against her own will.

She touched the stump of the old tree with her hand to support her balance. Emily held her under the armpit and helped her sit down. Little fragments of colorful chalks she was holding fell down into the grass. They looked like playing dice gamblers use in taverns to cheat unsuspecting travelers for their gold.

Oh, my hands are not serving as they used to! the old woman said, but Emily found the chalks and put them near her grandma's pieces of paper rolled into a tube. She always carried them around. Thank you my dear.

She looked at her face and touched her bubbly cheeks. They were so soft and her eyes like two dark blue precious stones set above them. Emily smiled, It's ok grandma. I'm going to take some flowers and herbs. They are in bloom now. They are so beautiful. She was very excited, their home will have more scent of the nature in it, if that's even possible.

Yes, my dear. But don't go too far into the forest. I will be here drawing.

The meadow was so pretty, especially now in summer. The sun shone through tall trees around them, silent breeze of colder wind from nearby pond filled the air with the smell of blooming flowers, grass and wooden scents. Little birds flew around tweeting news and gossip to each other, bees went from flower to flower to collect nectar to make sweet honey and dragonflies chased each other in circles as if there was no tomorrow.

Don't pick up the dark blue ones. They smell like a rotten carcass when they die! she shouted at her after a while, it's a defense mechanism they adapted so they don't get picked. Smart plants they are these ones! But Emily already knew that, she knew a lot of things about flowers and nature in general.

It was a wonderful day to draw something great she thought as she unrolled her papers. Something she always wanted to draw but didn't have to, until now. The chalks were ready, she felt it. The image formed clearly in her head.

The chalks were just remnants, little pieces, nothing more. They were used again and again by her. She took a green one and started to draw her final picture. It was time ...

CHAPTER 1

I can't do this anymore! I don't know! Please stop! A woman's scream that could wake up the dead echoed through the dark room. Vials of different liquids stood in wooden stands covered in dust, old tomes of magic, alchemy, rituals and spells filled entire walls and tables, scrolls with unknown texts and symbols lied around the room as if they owned the place. A slight shimmer of lights and shadows from candles covered everything she could see with her narrowed eyes, making it appear more awful than it was.

The smell of coffee, herbs and polished wooden floors filled her nostrils. Herbs and other small flowers she brought him that day were scattered around waiting to be used in his experiments. The ropes holding her hands were tight and she could not escape. She tried several times but to no use.

A tall shadowy figure appeared in front of her from the back of the room. She could see the grin on his face even through his messy gray beard. The old man was dressed in a dark blue magician's robe and was very old. His short soft sparse hair was combed back and gave his face almost aristocratic feel. He seems like that kind you wouldn't want to meet at night in a dark alley.

Emily noticed his long fingernails again, they always disgusted her. What is it with magicians and their fingernails? Don't they have scissors? Or some useful spell to get rid of it?

You are saying you don't know? he spoke suddenly, moving slowly towards the joist she was tied to, hands behind her back. He had a strong voice she thought, him being old and all. Colorful and potent, vibrant and deep, not like her grandma, who could barely catch breath after speaking for a bit.

No I don't. You are wasting your time! she said curtly, looking right into his eyes. They, on the other hand, were old and empty, as if somebody drained all hue and life from them. It made her uneasy when she looked for too long, yet it fascinated her beyond belief.

Very well Emily, this is your last chance. He stopped and stared at her immobile body, then he turned around, straightened his right hand and murmured some words she never heard before. A long quill from across the room that sat in a glassy ink canister started to wiggle a bit and in a split second flew right above the wizard's hand where it stopped, right there in the air. Blue ink from it's tip dripped onto his hand but he didn't lose any concentration at all.

What are you going to do? I told you I don't know anything! Emily shouted at him, scared for her life. She started to shake and suddenly noticed it was cold. It was always cold in the wizard's tower. But she realized only now, after all this time she used to visit him.

I will have to get the information from you by another ... method, care I say, his voice deepened. A slow cloud of steam came out of his mouth as he turned around, the quill still above his hand. I am sick of playing nicely, now ... he didn't finish the sentence as she shouted, Silence!

The cloud of steam quickly separated and formed itself into five small icy needles that roughly pierced his upper and lower lips together, shutting his mouth and freezing it in place. Red drops of blood started to stream down his chin and neck onto his garment. The wizard's eyes widened in anger and pain.

Mhm mhm! the old man tried to speak but couldn't. He hesitated a bit, then pointed his long thin index finger at Emily's eye and the quill started to fly towards it, slowly, but surely.

She looked around, then at him. There was nothing she could do. The pointy end of the quill was closer and closer every second. A drop of sweat from her forehead dropped from her brow on the floor, creating a small darker point that was not dirty or dusty. She closed her eyes and braced herself. She waited, counting seconds and wondering what it will be like to feel that kind of pain.

But nothing happened. Her left eye opened slowly and the figure of her torturer appeared in front of her again in the dark, the quill in his hand, his mouth unharmed, forming an expression of contempt. Is that all? I'm disappointed in you Emily! He usually stressed her name and raised his voice when he was angry and that's what he did this time. You silenced me but didn't have a follow-up plan? Very amateur, I have to say. Very novice-like! he pronounced every word with special attention so she remembers her fiasco for longer.

When he snapped his fingers, the tight rope loosened itself and fell on the floor. She touched her wrists, they still hurt. Well, she started, I didn't know what to do.

Knowing what to do after silencing your opponent is crucial in defensive magic my dear, taken they are practitioners of the arcane. Silencing a brute with a sword near your neck will do him no harm now, would it? he said furiously and pointed at his table. Shall we?

She sat there tired and feeling useless while he grabbed a piece of cloth to wipe the ink off his hand. The moonlight just peeked into the massive windows.

I just blanked out. It always happens to me.

You have so much to learn, but you are getting there. Why didn't you use the flames from the candles to burn the quill? You know how to do that! he said pointing at the flickering lights, " It's a good source of energy for you to manipulate. You need